


characters of no illusion

by lovehugsandcandy



Category: Ride or Die (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25880137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovehugsandcandy/pseuds/lovehugsandcandy
Summary: The detective meets Colt. And Colt meets the detective.
Relationships: Colt Kaneko/Main Character (Ride or Die)
Kudos: 4





	characters of no illusion

The lights flashed, lighting the night sky in red and blue; Colt couldn’t stifle the satisfied smirk as he watched the colors dance over the concrete, across the quiet nondescript wooden paneling lining the sleepy neighborhood homes, and, finally, over the pale face being led out of a safe house, hands shackled behind his back, face dour as the uniform led him down the street.

“Easy as pie,” Luke chuckled next to him, crossing his arms over a broad chest.

Colt shot him a sly grin as they stood, ensconced in the shadows, a safe distance from the activity below. The last two years had been utter war, every day a battle for mere existence amid the convoluted and ever-shifting power structures of the various crews that ran LA.

But, slowly, it had gotten easier. They had dispatched the head of the Russian mobsters, sending him fleeing to a retirement enclave in Palm Springs while his crew dissolved into recrimination and chaos. They had agreed to a ceasefire with a local operation, each crew owning a carefully divided section of the city, demarcated by a neutral zone that had held for months.

And now, thanks to weeks of planning, hours late into the night with only his second-in-command and shitty convenience store coffee, the feared leader of the LA mafia was looking at a lifetime behind bars. Even if he evaded multiple murder charges, the cache of semiautomatic weapons that the MPC planted in his basement would surely seal his fate: enough time behind bars that he would die a federal inmate, nothing but a number in chains.

Colt stared as the pair shuffled up the street towards a waiting squad car.

As the uniform opened the back door, the decal on the paneling reflected the flashing lights. ‘To serve and protect.’ Ha. Colt had to scoff. _Protect who?_

Engrossed his ongoing hatred of all things LAPD, he almost missed it, blinking a few times to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. He stepped closer, edging onto the sidewalk, eyes peeled on the scene below.

“Boss?”

Colt ignored him and stepped closer, watching the red-blue dance over the hood of a car he knew all too well.

“Boss?!?” Luke’s voice took an edge, harsh, concern mixing with a tinge of panic.

Again, Colt ignored him. He could barely see the license plate, just make out the first four digits; he couldn’t see the last two, but it didn’t matter. He knew them by heart, just like he knew the driveway where this car parked, by a house he had memorized, in a neighborhood he had driven through countless times. He knew that car like he knew his own name.

“Hey, Kaneko!”

That brought him up short. It always did, when someone said that, called him by his last name. It was reminiscent of a different time, when his life was different, when he was a different person, driven by rage and pain. Now, he was changed; he had been turned into a man ruled by calculations and cunning and the vibrant memory of a man who could bring a city to its knees. But never his son. Kaneko’s son knelt for no man, no one in the city, no one in the world.

Save for one. One girl, a mere pipsqueak across the country with a feather tattoo, hot pink sports car, and the most brilliant mind he’d ever met.

He had driven by her house a million times; every time, the second-floor window sat dark and desolate. But there had frequently been movement and lights downstairs, images flickering past on a television, bustling in the kitchen.

And the car. The car was often in the driveway, a beat-up old undercover cruiser. In his times scoping out the house, he had seen that car more times that he could count.

“Kaneko?”

“It’s fine, Luke,” he threw the words over his shoulder, never pulling his eyes from the grey paint. “Get outta here.”

“You sure?”

He dimly knew that his second hadn’t moved but couldn’t be bothered now. “Yeah. There’s something I gotta do.”

He didn’t even acknowledge the hasty goodbye as his feet pulled him forward. This wasn’t like him. Colt always had a plan, carefully considered, with multiple options depending on various risks mapped in advance.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

He moved incrementally closer as the other vehicles left, one-by-one, lights fading into the city, until it was only the old sedan, parked against the curb. With no one else around, in the cover of darkness, he was free to move forward, lean against the door and stretch his legs.

He didn’t need to wait long before a commanding voice boomed, “Step away from the car.”

Colt smirked at the harsh tone and pushed off the door frame, ensuring that his hands were visible at all times. He turned, taking two steps forward and, when he entered the pooling streetlight, the detective froze.

“You…I recognize you.”

“I’m flattered,” he shot back. The MPC had been making a name for themselves; it would be foolish to think the most storied detective in LAPD history hadn’t at least looked into him.

“No…” Colt watched him edge closer, eyes narrowing. “You took Ellie to prom.”

He sucked in a tight breath. That was a name he hadn’t heard in years, two years to be exact, though he thought it far more often than he would ever give voice to.

“You kept her involved in your damn gang. You’re a fucking menace-”

“If you think she ever does anything she doesn’t want to, you obviously don’t know your daughter well.”

“You piece of shit,” the detective growled, eyes glowing under the streetlight. He looked deranged. “Stay away from her.”

“Fuck you.” She had stayed away from him, over two thousand miles, as far as she could get without dropping into the Atlantic. “She couldn’t get away from you fast enough.”

“And now she’s across the country.”

“Away from us both,” Colt murmured. The pause that followed was weighty; he had to avert his eyes, glancing up only when the detective sauntered closer.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Heavy feet stopped as understanding dawned in his eyes. “Oh my God. The anonymous tip.”

Colt smirked, straightening his spine.

“I knew it seemed fishy, someone having the intel to lead us right to him?”

“Congratulations on putting him away.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice. “Menace to society.”

“What do you want?”

Colt blinked, one last glance around to be sure he had complete privacy for this conversation. “You put Shaw away, too…thank you.”

“Wha…what?”

“He got my dad killed.” Colt had to look away, willing the lump in his throat away. “So…just…thank you.”

“Ellie told me about that during the trial,” the detective huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You live that life, it either ends in a fiery crash or a jail cell.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“It’s true.” His glare was hard, recalling all the other times Colt had been on the receiving end of an unyielding look. “But…it sounds like he tried to do right by you.”

“Don’t talk about hi-”

“I am sorry he died.”

“Bullshit. One less-”

“I wish I put him away first. But…” the detective sighed, looking him up and down, “it sounds like he wanted a kind of life for you that you have no interest in.”

“You don’t know shit about me.”

“I know you’re either gonna crash hard or rot in a jail cell.”

The words came unbidden to Colt’s mind. _Maybe. But first I’m going to be great. And so will you._ Another night, just like this, when red and blue painted the sky and he had a different Wheeler in front of him.

The detective shook his head and brushed past. He had just put his hand on the door handle when the words were pulled out of Colt’s mouth, some unknown force loosening his lips. “How is she?”

Slowly, the detective straightened, rising to full height to glare at him. Colt tried not to fidget, shoving his hands in his pocket, and forced himself not to avert his eyes. Finally, after an eternity where his stomach roiled uncomfortably, he got a reply. “Good. She’s good. Doing real well at school.”

“Of course.”

“Don’t fuck it up for her.” The detective stepped closer, menacing, fingers reaching to the bulge by his hip. “You stay away from her. She’s worked far too hard for you to ruin it for her.”

“She’s gonna succeed at whatever she wants to do. I wouldn’t stand in her way.” Would he hope like hell she chose him, his life? _Fuck yeah_. Would he stand in her way? _Never_.

“See that you don’t,” the detective sneered, turning to pull on the handle. With nary a look back, he slammed the door shut and Colt had to leap back to avoid the squealing tires.

He watched the taillights disappear, a pair of red that dimmed and dimmed into nothingness. Finally, when the memories weren’t so vivid, when the ache wasn’t so sharp, he meandered back to his bike and let the roar of the motor dim the roar in his mind.

~~~~~

Ellie tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and Colt grimaced. He could spot that tell a mile away and there, standing fidgeting outside her father’s door, wearing the same dress he ogled in all her graduation pictures, teetering on heels that tap danced an unsteady beat as they waited; she was nervous.

“It’s not too late to back out,” he whispered in her ear. It wasn’t. There were far better things they could do with their evening and far better uses for that dress, just long enough to be appropriate and just short enough to give him vivid fantasies of the various ways he could ravish her so that, the next time she saw blue silk in her closet, all she would think about would be the sound of his name screaming off her lips.

“No.” She shook her head fiercely. “This is important. You guys haven’t met before and, if you guys are gonna be civil, we can’t blow him off for this.”

The words brought him to a sudden stop. Apparently, the detective hadn’t informed Ellie about their earlier meeting either. Colt himself hadn’t particularly wanted to mention it, fully aware that it wasn’t exactly a stellar entry in the ‘meet the parents’ hall of fame.

He hooked needy fingertips around her waist to pull her close, ducking to whisper in her ear. “It’s gonna be fine.” He dropped a kiss to the side of her neck, pulling her flush against him when she shivered. “Are you wearing perfume?”

“Yeah? It’s not like this is the first time.”

“No…” With his chin on her shoulder, he could just reach the hem of her dress, teasing fingers sliding the thin fabric up slightly so he could touch the warm skin of her thigh. “But you don’t put it on your neck for me.” His fingers traced higher, and she hummed, low in her throat, head tilting to the side so he could speak right against her neck. :You put it right under your belly button so I can kiss the spot before I-”

“Excuse me.” They both startled and jumped apart; he shot Ellie a guilty look, spying the mortified blush stain her cheeks, and then inhaled as he faced the front door. The detective looked older; the lines digging towards his temples had deepened and his hair was almost entirely grey now, stark against his tan skin. However, the look in his eyes hadn’t changed, anger and wariness swirling together as his gaze bored into Colt. His hand was tight against his waist, clutching a familiar bulge locked to his hip.

Colt almost laughed. At least he hadn’t come armed to this dinner.

“Hi, Dad,” Ellie had recovered enough to step forward, wrapping her arms around her father’s shoulders to hold him close. But even though the detective returned the hug, his eyes never left Colt.

It was going to be a long night.

After a short nod, the detective moved to let them in. Colt entered the house, tuning out the small talk behind him to stroll into the living room. His eyes roamed hungrily over the portraits lining the walls, a progression of smiles as Ellie aged. He hadn’t had time to gawk the last time he had been here, two weeks after college graduation, sneaking into her room as soon as that second story light was on and the undercover police car was conspicuously absent. She had been lounging in bed, surfing through images on her phone, and had almost brained him before she realized who it was.

The pictures circled the room, her father’s pride taking up every spare inch, tracking Ellie’s growth in chronological snapshots of time. Those shots stopped after college. He knew he was the reason.

“Dinners ready,” the detective called. Colt let his eyes linger over the familiar face before he checked the clock. 6:13. He would bet they wouldn’t make it a half-hour before the fragile peace exploded.

They didn’t even make it that long.

Dinner started off innocently enough. Colt drowned out the small talk of Ellie’s classmates, distant relatives, shit he didn’t care about. He perked up when he was presented with a heaping plate of waffles (ignoring the “I miss our breakfasts and wanted to make you the Ellie special.”). He was just drowning his second waffle in syrup when even he could sense the moment it went downhill.

“I’ve missed you, Ellie.”

“I’ve missed you too, dad, but at least I’m on the West Coast now.”

“Have you been getting my care packages?”

“Yes,” she responded, dully. “You don’t need to send them, really. I’m doing fine.” She would rail about those packages every time, while Colt guiltily kicked the box under the couch and wiped crumbs from his lips.

“I just want to spoil my only child a little. Did you share the cookies with Riya?”

“Ummm….” she paused and shot Colt a guilty look.

“I just wanted to help you girls out.”

“But I don’t need help, dad, I’m doing-”

“But can’t you humor your old man? I missed you so much while you were at college and then…” the detective trailed off, eyes flickering to Colt before he continued, “Before that, too.”

“Dad!”

“I’m just saying that-“

“Dad…” she groaned, fiddling with her fork.

The detective put his silverware down. “I’m just so proud of you and your mom would be too, but I worry about some recent decisions you’ve made-“

“What recent decisions?” Colt ground out, implication making his hackles rise.

“I was speaking to my daughter.”

“Hey, what recent decisions?!?”

She let out a heaving sigh. “Dad…I didn’t come here to fight with you.” She caught Colt’s eye and reached over to give his hand a squeeze. “We actually have some happy news we wanted to share.” Her eyes were bright, joyful, but Colt didn’t miss the detective’s panicked glance at her stomach. Ha. If he knocked Ellie up, the detective would shoot him in cold blood, law be damned. “We’re moving in together!”

“You’re what.”

“I’m moving into the garage. The lease on the apartment is up and Riya is moving to Oakland with Darius anyway so-”

“You’re. WHAT?!?” The wooden chair legs screeched across the linoleum as the detective pushed his chair back, eyes burning. Colt reflexively leapt to his feet as well, dropping Ellie’s hand.

“She’s moving in with me.”

“Like hell.”

“It’s not like you have any say in the matter.”

“Ellie, you can’t move in with him.”

“Why the hell can’t she?” Colt seethed, hands balling into fists, rage inflaming his veins. _How dare he?_

“Dad!”

“Wait, why can’t she move in with me? I think she can make her own fucking dec-“

“I won’t have any girl of mine shacking up with-“

“Colt, baby, please…”

“Shacking up with who? Finish the fucking sentence.”

“With a worthless criminal who-”

“You don’t know shit-”

“Dad! Stop!”

“I just want to protect you-”

“She doesn’t fucking need you, old man.”

The detective leaned across the table, jabbing his index finger towards Colt. “I forbid you to see my daughter-”

“Ha, good luck with that, asshole.” Colt sneered, barely restraining himself from leaping across the table. He swore that, if Wheeler’s finger came one more inch closer, he could not be held responsible for his actions. “You couldn’t control Ellie when she lived here and-”

“You punk, I’ll-”

“-you sure as hell can’t control her now, you fucking-”

“Enough!” Ellie screamed, throwing herself to her feet to glare across the table, and it was enough to shock both men into freezing. “Both of you, stop it. Dad, we came to tell you in person and why can’t you just be happy for us?”

“Happy news? This is a disast-“

“And Colt, do you really need to fight with everyone? It’s my dad, for crying out loud.”

“Excuse me? But he basically said that-“

“Enough. Both of you,” she snarled, sliding her chair out and backing away. “If this is how you’re both going to act, obviously you can’t be in the same room together and maybe I can’t be with either of you right now!”

Colt stared at her as she stormed away, spine tense, every sharp stomp digging her heels into the floor. When she reached the front door, he leapt after her, not even looking at the table behind him or the golden-brown waffle that he really wanted to eat. He just fled.

When he got to the porch, front door slamming behind him, she was already down the steps, heels stomping down the wall, arms wrapped around her chest.

“Ellie!” He took the steps two at a time. “Ellie, wait!”

She whirled on him, eyes wild and furious

“You,” she hissed. He took a reflexive step back, swallowing hard. “You,” she continued, anger dripping from every syllable, “you knew how important this was to me! I just wanted you to be civil. He’s my freaking dad!”

His mind flooded with images of the last time she had to choose between her two lives. It hadn’t gone well. “Do you…do you still want to move in with me?” The words were out before he could stop them and he hated how small he sounded, weak and young and fucking pathetic.

“What?” She stepped back and her shoulders dropped, tension and fury dissipating into the night. “Of course I do.” She studied him, so intently he had to look away, back to the door that had just slammed shut. “Colt…”

Before he could move, she was in his arms, pulling him down so he could bury his face in her neck, hints of jasmine perfume a comfort as his arms circled around her waist.

“Of course I do,” she murmured, lips soft against his ear.

He took a few more seconds to hold her close, hammering in his chest gradually slowing, before pulling back. “Let’s go home.”

Her answering smile was everything he ever needed.

He had known all along that there were much better things they could do with their evening.

~~~~~

The door creaked open, and Colt’s eyes narrowed, immediately equal parts protective and annoyed. He squinted into the dim room, eyes straining in the darkness, but the weight on his chest kept him pinned, immobile. It was amazing how something so small could be so heavy, 6lbs 10oz of eyes blinking slow, fingers too intricate and tiny to be believed scratching slow rhythms against his bare chest, dark hair already curling underneath a tiny beanie. Slow footsteps sounded, far too wary to be a nurse, and Colt had to bite his tongue before he cursed at the figure peering around the corner.

He hadn’t seen the detective in over a year. Their first meeting hadn’t gotten well, their second had gone even worse, and the relationship had continued to disintegrate, to where Colt was a noticeable absence from the monthly Wheeler dinners that slowed and slowed and then stopped altogether.

He hadn’t been there when Ellie found out she was pregnant, tears pouring out and darkening the grey of Colt’s t-shirt. She swore that it was the hormones. Judging from the smile splitting her face and the answering glistening of his own eyes, it wasn’t.

He hadn’t been there for their wedding, when Colt couldn’t stop smiling and stealing the giggles from Ellie’s lips, a delighted lilt that made his stomach swoop and chest warm. (It must have been happiness, he thought later, palm heavy over the curve of her stomach. That had to be what happiness felt like and every time before, from the rush of a successful job to the first smile from his father after five years of scorn and anger to even the weightless leap off the cliff with her hand in his, all of those times had been feeble imitations. Now that he had tasted true joy, he would be damned if he were ever going back.)

He hadn’t even been there when Ellie called, every frantic gasp making Colt slam the gas down harder, her hand gripping so tightly it had taken over thirty minutes for the blood to flow to his fingertips again. She had left a voicemail, frantic, pausing with every contraction to suck in a pained breath, but he hadn’t even picked up the damn phone.

A soft cough drew Colt’s attention to the present, where the detective deigned to waltz closer. “Is that…” The detective trailed off, inclining his head

“No. That’s some kid I stole from the nursery, old habits die hard and all.” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course it’s your grandson.” The word made his heart leap into his throat. The man standing in front of him, for all the animosity between them, was Owen’s only living grandfather. Colt had to bite his lip, lest his face reveal his anguish. _What would Pop have done?_

“Can I see him?”

He shifted and sat up, carefully, protective arm wrapped tight, trying not to jostle the bundle swaddled in striped hospital blankets. It didn’t work. Slowly, tiny lashes feathered open, revealing dark eyes struggling to focus. The doctor said that newborns couldn’t see more than a couple feet away from their faces, but Colt was convinced this little guy could focus sleepy eyes into his soul.

“Hey, little guy.” The detective had shifted closer, peering down, and whispered, “I’m your grandpa.”

The title hurt. Judging by the soft rhythmic breaths to his left, Ellie was still sleeping, hadn’t stirred from her exhaustion for this first meeting between her father and her son. Colt felt like an interloper, an unwanted and unwilling witness, and had to fight the urge to wake her up. She needed her rest.

“He’s beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

The detective stared, almost in awe, taking in every single hair, every twitch of his scrunched-up face. “You know, I almost forget what it was like when she was that little. When all I wanted to do was keep her close and protect her.” The detective straightened awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pocket and fixing Colt with a stare. “I don’t think that feeling ever goes away.”

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, almost as heavy as Owen on his chest. That feeling had already begun for him, had begun the minute that the squirming bundle in his arms had stilled, gazing up at him in wonder, wonder that Colt shared as he returned the awestruck look. He already knew that he would fight anyone, anything, had fists and weapons and words at the ready to protect his son until Owen could protect himself.

But, if the detective was right, maybe those fists would be at the ready until the day he died.

“I still want to protect her, even now, even when she has her own family and doesn’t need it, doesn’t need me,” the detective continued, gaze lost to memory. “I guess that instinct never goes away.”

Colt watched his gaze shift from his grandson to Ellie, who looked so tiny in the hospital bed, small and exhausted and utterly heroic.

“Protect her for me? Both of them?”

Colt paused, assessing him with new eyes. Now, he wasn’t a scheming antagonist, plotting to hoard Ellie away. He wasn’t an angry patriarch, throwing them out of his home. He wasn’t a fucking detective, upholding the law and protecting the bastards who had gotten his father killed. 

Now, he was just a father worried for his child. Just like Pop must have been.

Just like Colt was, now.

“Always.” He was always willing to kill for the few people he actually gave a shit about; now, he would protect these two with his life.

The detective nodded and shuffled away, latch closing quietly behind him, so the only sound was the clock, keeping count of each new second of life, and Ellie’s exhausted breathing. Colt eased Owen back over his chest, reclining again, and nustling the baby soft cheek with his chin.

“Hey,” Ellie’s voice was soft and Colt blinked his eyes open. He must have dozed off, had no idea how much time had passed, the room gradually coming into focus. She looked sleepy but happy, beatific grin and fond eyes trained on their newborn.

“Hey. Your dad came by.”

“He did?” She raised her eyebrows, pushing herself up gingerly in the hospital bed. “What did he say?”

He grinned and looked down to where Owen’s eyes had closed again, tiny snores breathing hot against Colt’s chest. “He said congratulations.”


End file.
